Inner Obsessions
by fireylight
Summary: Set at Christmastime, this fic reveals the Xmens' and Brotherhoods' very, very inner obsessions. Insanity ensues. Be forewarned. :) Chpt a FINALLY up! Logan loses his dearest friend...
1. Obsession with Fanfiction

Author's note:  
  
Warning! OOC! Everyone's supposed to be deranged in this, with a few exceptions. :) just a little fic I thought of after my holiday. Feeling very bored nowadays. Sigh. Sadly enough, my favourite schnoogle writer has just changed her trilogy to a slash one. *sobs* Aud (and charlene, if you're reading this), what is the world coming to???  
  
Disclaimer: I don't, and probably never will, own Xmen evolution.  
  
  
  
Inner Obsessions  
  
  
  
Scott Summers had a secret.  
  
A secret which he had come across unexpectedly while surfing the internet aimlessly one day after an all-out tiring Danger Room session, which included Logan chasing after him with a spatula.  
  
He shut the door hurriedly, peering out into the hallway nervously to see if anyone was following him. He was aware he was doing something he shouldn't have been doing, but it was addictive. So addictive that he had to go on the Internet every few hours to that same website. That's right. Scott Summers was into. . . fanfiction.  
  
Not just reading fanfiction, it turned out. He was into writing them as well. He became so obsessed that he started a whole series of Jean/Scott fics for his own reading pleasure. After weeks of searching fanfiction.net for Jean/Scott fics under the Xmen Evolution category, he was sadly disappointed. Most of the fics portrayed him as a boring rule-abider that slept with a dictionary under his pillow. And Jean! Poor Jean! She was much worse off, the poor girl. There were so many cases of "Jean bashing" that Scott had cried on several occasions. But enough of that. Scott was now on a mission to change the ficdom's impression of Jean Grey, his present infatuation.  
  
He hummed merrily to himself as he uploaded his new chapter of "The Scott and Jean Chronicles: How They Overcame All". He had been so busy writing fanfiction that he barely cared about what went on around him. Except for Jean, of course. He gave her all his undivided attention nowadays, but she seemed not to notice. Unless she was ignoring him on purpose. Scott shuddered at the very thought.  
  
He rubbed his hands together as he read yet another one of the "Anti-Jean" fics he had bookmarked on his computer. In fact, there were so many that he had a long list of bookmarked websites. But no matter. Those evil writers would pay.  
  
Scott clicked on the "Submit Review" at the bottom, and let out an evil laugh. Ha! He'd flame all those who opposed to Scott/Jean relationships, to make them feel guilty about even thinking of breaking them up. Or worse, pair them up with other insignificant characters.  
  
As Scott finished his flame, he absently clicked on a link to another website. It led to a Jean/Wolverine story, and Scott felt himself flare up. How dare they! The evil fic writers! He glared at the screen, as if he could melt the story by just giving it evil glares (which he could if he simply removed his glasses, but never mind). The fic described Logan as a "dashing, romantic hero" and Scott an "irritating, evil prat, hell-bent on destroying the world". As he flamed the story with all his heart, Scott choked out a sob. He'd show them. His fics would gain more popularity than the rest of them!  
  
He wiped away a tear, blowing his nose on a tissue he'd left on his table. His eyes widened in terror as he stared at the tissue he had blown his nose into. It had been an offering from Jean, and had her scent on it! Oh, it was sacred, and he had just stained it! He couldn't take it anymore, and sobbed tears of pain while (unsuccessfully) trying to wipe it clean. It tore in half.  
  
Scott gasped in horror and dropped to the floor in a dead faint.  
  
  
  
*******  
  
Logan looked at the Xavier warily as he wheeled around the office in what could be called deranged excitement (Xavier, not Logan).  
  
"I can't believe it!" the Professor waved his hands in the air happily. "Christmas is coming!" He went to tick another day off the calendar, almost falling out of his wheelchair in his excitement.  
  
"Woohoo." Logan tried to sound enthusiastic and failed miserably. He hated Christmas, and for good reason. The thought of a bunch of swotty kids running around caroling was giving him a headache. He fidgeted in his seat and made a mental note to buy his liquor by the crateful in the afternoon. He opened one of Xavier's drawers experimentally, hoping for some scotch. Nothing.  
  
"You won't find any there," Xavier eyed Logan evilly. "I hid it."  
  
"Who said I was looking for scotch?" Logan grumbled. _Damn_, he thought inwardly.  
  
Xavier smiled. "You just told me," he intoned. "I know all."  
  
Logan glared at the ground. The urge to hear the Professor's screams of pain as he plunged his claws into his stomach was growing, but he fought it down. "You planning anything?"  
  
Xavier immediately brightened. "You mean, for Christmas?"  
  
Logan grunted in reply. _Please tell me you're planning to take a nice, long walk to the pier and off it._  
  
"Well, I was thinking of planning a nice mutant Christmas party," Xavier said cheerfully. "You know, to bring in the _togetherness_ and all that. I get the feeling that some of the children have been distancing themselves recently."  
  
Logan winced inwardly. A _Christmas party_? Was the man insane? The urge was growing again. Before he could pop his claws, he managed to choke out a reply. "Are you talking about Shades?"  
  
The Professor nodded wisely. "I feel that he is distressed over a certain matter, but I can't tell what. That's why, as my loyal henchman - I mean, friend and advisor - I need you to go talk to him." He scooted back in his wheelchair and clapped his hands together, obviously satisfied with himself.  
  
Logan glared at the Professor openly this time. "What, be some sort of parental advisor?" he snarled.  
  
"Exactly," Xavier snapped his fingers. "You have that kind of. . . how do you put it. . . ah. Fatherly aura."  
  
Logan walked over to the wall and slammed his head against it repeatedly.  
  
  
  
************  
  
"A party?" Kitty squealed excitedly. "At the Institute?"  
  
"That's right!" the Professor crowed. Logan massaged his temples in the corner.  
  
Rogue exhaled loudly. "Does that mean we _all_ have tah buy presents?"  
  
"Are we caroling?"  
  
"Oooh, presents!"  
  
"Can we have chocolate muffins?"  
  
"As long as Kitty's not making them."  
  
"Evan! You pig!"  
  
"OW! KITTY!"  
  
"It doesn't matter, Ah think Jean's cooking's worse."  
  
Jean glared, putting her hands on her hips. "Exc-use me??" She whirled around. "Scott! Back me up!" She found herself talking to air, where Scott should have been. Jean blinked in confusion. "Where's Scott?"  
  
Rogue sighed. "Yoah just worried 'cuz you can't win a fight by yoahself."  
  
Jean eyes were starting to emit sparks. "What did you say?"  
  
"Can we invite others?" Kitty asked, ignoring Rogue and Jean, who had started to fight physically. Kurt and Evan cheered them on.  
  
The Professor scrunched his brow. "Are you referring to who I think you're referring to?"  
  
"Yup," Kitty said cheerfully.  
  
The Professor thought for a moment. "Only if you promise not to bake more muffins."  
  
Kitty looked insulted. "They aren't _that_ bad." She considered. "But I suppose I have to promise."  
  
The Professor looked extremely relieved. "Of course then, spread the Christmas cheer!" He pulled out a handful of confetti and threw it in the air, which flew all over the place, landing on Jean's unconscious body lying on the rug, with Rogue standing above her, waving her arms in victory. Her gloves were scattered on the mantelpiece.  
  
The Professor sighed in defeat and turned to Logan. "If you will, Logan, go find Scott and talk to him. And while you're at it, do fix me a martini." His head was aching from the lack of alcohol in his bloodstream, and he was hallucinating that Logan had switched from his ragged shirt and jeans to a French maid's outfit, duster in hand.  
  
Logan shot daggers at Xavier, who pretended not to notice. As he stomped off, he heard Xavier call after him, "And do fix the bedpans!"  
  
*********  
  
Lance Alvers stared at the screen and bit his lip. He was blatantly disappointed from the complete lack of Lancitty fanfiction on fanfiction.net. All that Kurtty! And the Kietro shippers! The very thought of it was making his blood boil. There was only one solution. Flame! Flame! Flame!  
  
Lance had always been a stout Lancitty shipper, but he was beginning to get quite attached to Jean/Wolverine shippings. In fact, he had recently attempted a Jean/Wolverine fic, describing Logan as a "dashing, romantic hero", and at the same time degrading the dorky Scott Summers as an "irritating, evil prat, hell-bent on destroying the world". He wondered if anyone had reviewed it yet.  
  
He gasped audibly as he saw that someone had flamed him. The particular idiot happened to be called "Scott&Jean4ever". He had written a whole bunch of Scott/Jean fics that made Lance want to hurl. Lance glared at the screen. The ******! Only true idiots would pair them up. There was only one solution. Flame! Flame! Flame!  
  
"Lance! Call for you!" Lance heard Pietro's annoyed voice yell from downstairs. "And make it fast! I'm expecting another babe to call!"  
  
"Damn," Lance grumbled, irritated from being interrupted from typing a flame right back to the offending flamer. He shot the screen one last evil look before heading out of the room and down the stairs. "Flame! Flame! Flame!" he chanted under his breath. Pietro shot him an odd look and zipped off, leaving Lance to his phone call.  
  
**************  
  
"I think he's mental," Pietro affirmed. "He's been going on and on like that for days."  
  
Todd's mouth twitched. "Maybe it's his new mantra yo," he commented.  
  
Fred looked around the room nervously. "Maybe he needs to see a psychiatrist."  
  
Wanda plucked a piece of lint off her shirt. "This is Lance we're talking about, remember?" she reminded. "Just because he goes around, saying, 'Flame! Flame! Flame!' doesn't mean he's mental. It's perfectly normal."  
  
Todd looked at Wanda in admiration. "Wow, Wanda. You're so smart."  
  
Wanda smirked. "I know because I have a brother."  
  
"Hey!" Pietro snapped. "If you weren't a girl -"  
  
He was interrupted by the sounds of Lance shouting about something in the living room. The four of them dashed out of the kitchen and were greeted by the horrifying sight of Lance doing a little dance in the middle of the room. "Flame! Flame! Flame!" he cheered, while doing some sort of complicated-looking sidestep. They onlookers exchanged nervous looks.  
  
"What you doin' yo?" Todd found his voice first. "Are you on Prozac again?"  
  
Pietro threw his hands up in the air. "How can that be? I've already finished it all!"  
  
"We can tell," Wanda grumbled.  
  
Lance ignored them and continued dancing. "I've just been invited to spend Christmas with Kitty at the X Geeks mansion!" With that, he accidentally stepped on his own foot and grimaced in pain.  
  
"Are _we_ invited?" Pietro asked.  
  
Lance looked up from his swelling toe and shot them a sheepish look. "She didn't say. She just said it was some party."  
  
"I take it that we're invited then," Fred said, rubbing his hands together. "Free food for us all!"  
  
"Yeah! Let's crash their party yo!" Todd said.  
  
"You can't crash a party if you're invited, Toad," Pietro explained patiently. "It's the principle of the thing."  
  
Wanda glared. "I'm not going."  
  
Todd looked shocked. "But you just have to go, Wanda!" He began hopping up and down. "We'll be lonely without you yo!" Wanda ignored him and left the room.  
  
As Todd began to hop after her, the remaining few turned their attention back to Lance, who was dancing with a cushion, oblivious to the stares he was receiving.  
  
"What was the number of the psychiatrist again?" Pietro asked Fred, who shrugged. Lance started kissing the cushion.  
  
***********  
  
Magneto grinned evilly at the bugging device in front of him. He had been inspired from watching the latest James Bond movie, and had taken the idea of listening in to the conversations at the Brotherhood house. The first few days of listening in had been extremely unfruitful (read: Lance and Pietro comparing underwear colors), but his efforts were finally being rewarded. Yes, with this new piece of information, he could go crash that party and destroy Xavier at last!  
  
Magneto downed another can of beer and aimed for the dustbin. It hit the rim and bounced off harmlessly. Magneto glared at Sabertooth, who was trying not to laugh and failing. Using his powers, Magneto guided the can into the dustbin and let out a "Ha!" of victory.  
  
"That's cheating," Sabertooth told him.  
  
Magneto gave Sabertooth a decidedly evil look before turning back to the device. "By catching Xavier unaware at the Christmas extravaganza, we can kill him and the X Men at one go and take over the world!" He restrained himself from cartwheeling around the room. The last time he tried that, he ended up with a fractured skull and a badly damaged ego. No, no, he would be smarter this round. He got onto the floor and attempted a single forward roll. There was a sickening crack.  
  
Magneto shot Sabertooth a sheepish look. "If you will, manservant, call the paramedics for me." He tried to look as dignified as he could in the awkward position he was in. Oh, the things he would do for adamantium bones like Logan!  
  
As Sabertooth shuffled off, grumbling about time-wasters, he heard Magneto call after him, "And while you're at it, fix me a martini!"  
  
  
  
*****************  
  
A/n: How was it? :) Should I continue this fic? Btw I'm not adding any of the new mutants in this fic because I honestly think it'd be too messy. Going to take a nap now. Review if you liked it! 


	2. Obsession with Perfection

[A/n: Thank you all for your reviews! I was a bit more inspired after reading them. Okay, thanks to Red Witch, Amicitia, Lady trunks (subtle hint taken!), Molotov, todd fan, starlightz6, simmysim, Azura, Nicky, LotusPen, Dr. Lauryl (shipper is a term for a pairing supporter), me, and amerase.]  
  
If you're wondering (esp Dr. Lauryl), I don't think I'll be continuing Kitty's diary for a while. Need a break from it until I can find some nice inspiration to tide me over my writer's block.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own X men evolution. Pui.  
  
Inner Obsessions  
  
Jean stared at her reflection in the mirror and frowned. She looked great, she had to admit, but there was this one thing.  
  
It was a strand of hair. A strand of her beautiful hair that simply kept falling out of place. And no matter how many times Jean had inconspicuously flicked her mane of red hair in order to make it less obvious, it still refused to stick. Even the potency of ten different mousses and styling gels couldn't make it conform. Desperate measures had to be taken.  
  
Jean glared at the strand of hair menacingly. "You're a menace, you know that?" she snapped, and the hair (which she had recently named Dennis) quailed slightly. [A/n: Get it? Dennis the Menace?:) *sighs* nvm. ]  
  
"Do you know what happens to hairs that refuse to conform?" Jean asked it softly, playing with a pair of scissors on the table. Dennis squealed out loud.  
  
"That's right," Jean said grimly, an evil smile sketched on her usually smiling (plastic) features. It made her look even scarier than usual. Dennis was shaking like a leaf.  
  
"I have no choice," Jean said, a shadow crossing over her face. "Goodbye, Dennis."  
  
Dennis was pleading now. "Please, no! I'll be good!" he sobbed.  
  
Jean wasn't convinced. "I don't believe you," she snarled. She straightened up. "Besides, I like doing this kind of thing."  
  
Dennis's high-pitched scream pierced through the cold night air.  
  
***********  
  
Lance stared at the screen in fury. "Scott&Jean4ever" had flamed every single one of his stories. Repeatedly. In the short space of time Lance was gone, dancing with a cushion, the f(beep)er had filled up an entire page of reviews with his mindless crap. Most of them included things like, "You utter prat! Scott rocks! Logan sucks! KILL LOGAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!" and other more insults and gripings. It rather sounded like "Scott&Jean4ever" was having some kind of seizure.  
  
Gripping the mouse tightly as he linked to the flamer's story (the infamous "Scott and Jean Chronicles: How they Overcame All"), Lance began his usual ritual. "Flame! Flame! Flame!" he chanted, a fire in his eyes. He set to work, his fingers flying on the keyboard. An eerie light illuminated his face.  
  
"You will pay, Scott&Jean4ever."  
  
**********  
  
Scott rubbed his eyes as he sat up groggily. Where was he? A giant poster of Jean loomed at him. He smiled. She was just so pretty! Even when she had that sadistic smile on her angelic face!  
  
Still in his stupor, he pulled himself to his computer chair (an action very familiar to him nowadays, it seemed) and refreshed the screen. His eyes bugged out when he saw that he had been flamed. Repeatedly. By some dude who went by the name of "Logan&Jean4ever". He seethed on the spot. He was the moron who described Scott as the evil prat in his fic! Scott felt adrenaline coursing through his body, and stretched his arms out to loosen his muscles. He was going to need them for his flaming ritual.  
  
Scott stared at the pageful of flames sadly before he began to flame "Logan&Jean4ever". The offending flamer had used a variety of curse words that Scott hadn't heard of in his life (being the boring, dull person he was), and the curse words alone took up a whole page. Scott was vaguely impressed, and made a mental note to save some of them for future usage.  
  
An eerie light passed over Scott's face as he regained his composure.  
  
"You will pay, Logan&Jean4ever."  
  
***********  
  
Xavier wheeled around the room idly, while Ororo and a hungover Logan watched him.  
  
"I was thinking," he began importantly.  
  
"That's good," Ororo said encouragingly. "Go on."  
  
Xavier nodded and continued. "I was thinking that maybe I should extend my invitation for the mutant Christmas party to Magneto and his gang."  
  
A deep silence followed this. "Are you crazy?" Logan snapped finally. "He'd kill us all!"  
  
Xavier ignored him. "Besides, if I don't invite him, he might want to come and gate crash the party instead. And Christmas is a time for giving!"  
  
"Giving our lives, you mean," Logan muttered.  
  
Ororo shot Logan a reprimanding look. "I agree with Xavier, Logan," she told him. "He has a point there."  
  
"See? I told you I'm a genius!" Xavier put on a proud look. "I'll send out the invitations right away!" With that, he bustled off in search for stamps.  
  
Logan turned to Ororo. "Do you think we just landed ourselves in something?"  
  
Ororo laughed. "Lighten up, Logan. Maybe we'll finally be able to make peace with him and the Acolytes!"  
  
**********  
  
"Mail for you," Sabertooth chucked the neatly pressed envelope into Magneto's lap.  
  
Magneto glared at him. "How many times must I ask you not to do that?" he snapped. There was a slight edge in his voice. "What if it's some sort of time bomb sent to assassinate me? Do you really want to give me a forced vasectomy?"  
  
Sabertooth just stared.  
  
Magneto shook his head in resignation. "Never mind," he mumbled. "Bad nightmare."  
  
He ripped the letter open and read it, his facial expression tightening as his eyes traveled down the letter. He finally let out a frustrated yell as he reached the end.  
  
"What's wrong now?" Sabertooth asked him dully. "Paramedic bills?"  
  
"_No_," Magneto whined. "It's Xavier. He's sent me an invitation to his annual Christmas bash."  
  
"Well, aren't you popular," Sabertooth said. "Am I invited?"  
  
"Yes, unfortunately." Magneto got up from his beanbag chair and started pacing the room. "This can't be happening! I was supposed to crash the party, surprise him, and kill him!"  
  
"You could still do that."  
  
"You can't crash a party that you're invited to, Sabertooth," Magneto explained patiently. "It's the principle of the thing."  
  
"You could decline, and crash his party," Sabertooth suggested.  
  
"Now _that's_ an idea," Magneto commended. "Good work, Sabertooth."  
  
Before Sabertooth could formulate a reply, Magneto had already whipped out a piece of paper and a pink pen. Before long, the letter was finished. It went like this:  
  
~~~~~  
  
Dear Xavier,  
  
Magneto here. I just received your Christmas invitation, but I fear I must decline. You see, I have spent much effort planting a bugging device in the Brotherhood house in order to find out about this so-called bash of yours, and I regret to tell you that I have already made plans to gate crash it.  
  
Upon receiving your invitation, I was put in a predicament, but in my sudden stroke of genius, I finally came up with the brilliant idea of declining your invite (- "Hey!" Sabertooth protested - ), so as to hold priority to be able to crash it, Magneto style. On which you will scream in surprise when I enter your lair by force and kill you and your pathetic X Men.  
  
Hugs,  
  
Magneto the Magnificent  
  
~~~~~~  
  
Magneto looked pleased with himself. "All is done," he declared. "Come, Hedwig!" [A/n: sorry, I couldn't resist!]  
  
Hedwig flew over and perched herself on Magneto's head. Magneto attached the letter to her leg with some difficulty, and sent her off.  
  
As Magneto watched Harry Potter's owl fly off into the sunset with a wistful look, Sabertooth wondered if it would be safe to tell him that he had bird poop on his head.  
  
  
  
*************  
  
[A/n: Sorry, short chapter! And due to requests of reviewers, yes, Remy will be coming in later. Just tell me who you want him to be paired with (please, no voting for him to be paired with Logan or something. I want to keep my sanity, you know) in your review. Until then, I'll be in hibernation. Toodles! :)] 


	3. Obsession with Spinning

Aah. so sorry for the slow update. I've been sick lately so I seem to have more free time than usual. Very bad cough virus attacking my system, but I have faith in my white blood cells.  
  
Thanks to all reviewers! And to my beta reader Gracia, aka "lotrmatrixstarwarsfan". Phew. Sigh. So much work lately. but I _will_ be uploading chap 4, hopefully in the next two weeks. Wish me luck. :)  
  
Inner Obsessions  
  
  
  
Professor Xavier stared out of the window wistfully. Ah, the pressures of being smart, intelligent, and incredibly redundant! He heaved a sigh of importance and did a 180-degree turn on his wheelchair. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. The ground started to blur as the world span so fast that he couldn't really see what was in front of him. He let out an exhilarated cry of "Whee!" and tried to spin faster. How fun! It almost made him want to stop drinking so much scotch. Of course, one couldn't really _drink_ if he was already going to throw up from excessive- compulsive spinning, right?  
  
Suddenly, he felt the wheelchair disappear underneath him as he was flung off in a very undignified manner. His thoughts twirled around in his head. who was he? What was his purpose in life? He felt sorrowful, but he couldn't quite explain why. Was it because *sob* he had no purpose in life? Ah! The terror!  
  
With that, he threw up on the Persian rug and fainted.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Damn, damn, DAMN," Logan snapped as Ororo helped him heave the unconscious Professor onto a chair. "You woke me up for _this_????"  
  
"He's not well!" Ororo cried indignantly. "Look at the poor man!"  
  
"Look at him indeed," Logan scoffed. His eyes flicked over the mess on the carpet, then to the innocent-looking wheelchair about five feet from it. "What d'you think he was trying to do?"  
  
Ororo bit her lip. "Maybe he was trying to walk. Or something like that."  
  
Logan snorted in reply. "Knowing _him_, he probably spun himself right off the chair."  
  
Ororo glared. "Now, I know he's been temperamental lately," she admonished. "But that doesn't mean he's as stupid as to do something like _that_."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Lance was doing his flaming ritual once more, only in the living room. With the entire Brotherhood gang watching him nervously.  
  
"Lance? What're you doing?" Fred asked, exchanging looks with Todd.  
  
"What?" he asked, slightly distracted from his tribal dance. "Oh, I'm warming up my fingers to start my flaming."  
  
"Flaming?" Wanda echoed. "As in, you're going to set the house on fire?"  
  
Lance looked irritated. "_No_," he snapped, doing a little twirl on the spot. "Kill Scott&Jean4ever." He then smiled at them and continued doing his ballerina twirls around the room, knocking down several objects as he did so.  
  
"Did you hear that?" Pietro hissed, after ushering the remaining sane Brotherhood members out of the room and into the kitchen. "He said, 'Kill Scott and Jean forever!'"  
  
Todd's jaw dropped. "As in, he's gonna . gonna _murder_ them?!"  
  
"Looks like it," Pietro said grimly. "I think he took it hard when he flunked history."  
  
Fred looked anxious. "Should we call a doctor?"  
  
Wanda snorted. "No cash, remember?"  
  
"We could raise funds yo," Todd piped up. "The annual 'Rescue Lance's Sanity Drive'."  
  
"We could bake cookies!" Fred suggested happily.  
  
"NO!" Pietro fought down the urge to scream his head off. "No drive. No bake sale or whatever. We have to do this the manual way."  
  
"The manual way?" Wanda folded her arms across her chest. "You mean the barbaric way."  
  
"That too." Pietro admitted. He had hoped it wouldn't have to come to this. "Let's get ready."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Scott sat back in his chair, satisfied with himself. After three continuous hours of spamming, it looked like the deed was done at last. His fingers ached like crazy from all the excessive keyboard pressing, but no matter. In fact, he was feeling pretty proud of himself.  
  
In all, he'd sent out about a thousand flames to Logan&Jean4ever. He found that if he pressed the control+c and the control+v key, he could simply copy and paste his flames, again and again. It saved time, but he kept pressing the wrong key in his excitement and had to redo his flames several times over. His flames went something like this:  
  
DIE LOGAN&JEAN4EVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!! U SUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! UR FICS SUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!! CAN'T U SEE THAT SCOTT AND JEAN ARE SO MADE 4 EACH OTHER ??????????!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? !?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? !?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? !?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? !?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? !?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? !?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? !?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? !?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? !?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? !?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? !?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? !?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
And much, much, more. In fact, after Scott finally decided to settle down and write down the 291st chapter of his fic (the infamous "Scott and Jean Chronicles: How they overcame all"), he found out that several keys were a bit. _wonky_.  
  
  
  
*  
  
Scott stared at the dark starlit sky, with the cool night wind blowing through his distinctly ruffled hair. "The pain of love," he whispered under his breath, clutching the locket Jean had given him in his undoubtedly muscular hand, and staring at it in his usual manly way. "How I can ever live without her is an eternal mystery."  
  
"Oh, Scott." Scott heard Jean's voice from behind him. "How could I ever - ever leave you for that creep of a Wolverine I love you so We're simply made for each other"  
  
*  
  
At this point, Scott was hit with a horrible realization. The exclamation and question marks didn't work any more! He wondered why. [A/n: Hmm.] Deciding to improvise, he (not so) cleverly inserted little brackets that read, "Insert question mark here" and so on. In the end, the whole page simply looked like a mass of words and not much else. Being an avid user of expressive punctuation, one of the paragraphs actually read:  
  
"Oh, Scott [insert exclamation mark here][insert another exclamation mark here][and another][and another, please {A/n: Scott is very polite.}][how about another one?][another][another][and another][one more][make that two][okay, three.] I love you so much it hurts [insert excla - oh, never mind. Insert many many exclamation marks.]"  
  
Scott smiled and clicked the "Upload Chapter" button.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Lance yawned with drowsiness and opened his eyes. Blinked once. Twice. Was it just him, or was that. _Pietro_??? He was wearing some sort of African tribal suit.  
  
"Pietro?" he asked incredulously. "What're you wearing?"  
  
Pietro grinned at him. "G'night, Lance."  
  
And then the world went black.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
[A/n: A nice little cliff for you all to hang onto. :) I kinda like the idea of Pietro in a tribal costume anyway. Review! *spins on computer chair*] 


	4. Obssession with a Blanket

Heyhey! Long time to see! (a year, to be precise.) It's the last few days of the hols, and school's gonna start again. sigh. I'm amazed I even dug this up for a posting. :) Merry Belated Christmas, everyone. Thanks to all those that reviewed, love ya lots! *hugs* The usual, lots of weirdness and ooc-ness. You have been warned.  
  
Inner Obsessions 4  
  
Lance Alvers awoke to a most unpleasant sight. Standing in front of him were Pietro, Blob and Toad. but the oddest thing was, they were wearing what looked suspiciously like grass skirts and war headbands. Behind them, Lance could make out a large, burning thing. A . bonfire??  
  
"Hola, Lance!" Pietro cried out crazily, waving a flowered garland at him. Beside him, Toad and Blob grinned as well, although theirs appeared slightly forced.  
  
Lance blinked. "What are you guys doing? Are you mad?" His eyes focused on the ropes holding his arms and feet in place. "And why the hell am I tied up like this?!"  
  
Pietro tutted. "It's the ceremony."  
  
"Ceremony?" When was the last time he took Prozac? Lance couldn't recall.  
  
"The. ah. ceremony of." The skirted Pietro faltered and elbowed Toad, as if asking for assistance.  
  
"Ceremonies?" Toad finished weakly. "Right, yo, uh - the ceremony of ceremonies." The light from the blazing fire behind him made his face glow eerily against the night sky.  
  
"Right-to!" Pietro said breezily. He headed towards Lance, and to Avalanche's horror, he had come to the awful, awful realization that because he was tied up from head to toe with ropes, he couldn't back away.  
  
Panic rising rapidly, Lance was gripped with horror as the tribal (and maniacal) Quicksilver advanced in his direction. The last time he saw Pietro grin in such an insane manner, he had forced Lance to wear a Betty Boop costume and parade with him down the shopping district (they were drunk). Thankfully, he had few lasting memories about the encounter, besides having woken up in a holding cell with a drunken Pietro still singing off-tune to the mickey mouse theme song. Not wanting a repeat of the encounter, he did the only thing that came to mind.  
  
"HEEEEELLLLPPPPP!!!" The ground began to shake, causing some of the delicately balanced tribal torches to wobble precariously.  
  
"Stop! STOP!!" Losing his head somewhat, Pietro grabbed a large metal rod lying on the ground and slammed it against Lance's head, causing him to drop in a dead faint, and the earthquake promptly ceased.  
  
"I think," Fred said concernedly, "that you just killed him."  
  
"Don't worry," Pietro said, but it could be noted that there was a tinge of hysteria in his voice. "He's still breathing. He'll be up in no time!"  
  
Toad looked around nervously. "Are you sure we should do this yo? Is it even legal?"  
  
At this point, Wanda, the only one actually wearing normal clothes, spoke up from her corner. "I don't think this will work," she said mutinously. "He's not responding very well to your 'reverse psychology', it seems." She gestured in the direction of Lance's unmoving body to make a point.  
  
Pietro looked deep in thought. "But it should be working," he protested weakly. "If we make him think he's the only sane one around, then we may be able to save him!"  
  
"From what?"  
  
"From being an insane axe murderer! Didn't you hear? He was ranting about setting Scott and Jean on fire!"  
  
"And you think YOUR idea's gonna work?"  
  
"Well, come up with a better one then, Miss High and Mighty!"  
  
"Well, it'd certainly be better than what you had in mind."  
  
"Oh yeah? Prove it!"  
  
Fred sighed and turned to Todd, who was watching the scene with what looked like fascinated amusement. "Burrito?"  
  
"Sure," he agreed, tearing his eyes away from the verbal battle and hopping after Fred, leaving the arguing siblings and a still unconscious Avalanche behind, sprawled out pathetically on the grass.  
  
*********  
  
Logan awoke from a bad nightmare, sweating profusely. He sniffed the air suspiciously. Something was amiss. But he couldn't quite put his finger on what.  
  
And then realization struck him. It took a few moments for him to gather his wits before he reacted. "NOOOOOOOOO!!!!"  
  
His resounding cry echoed throughout the mansion, and almost all the resident mutants were awakened by his terror-filled howl.  
  
"What's going on?" Ororo poked her head sleepily through his door. "Something wrong?"  
  
"Of course something's wrong!" Logan's eyes bulged slightly. "It's gone!"  
  
"What's gone?" Kitty asked, as she and the remaining students at the Institute filed into the room, still rubbing their eyes. If they had noticed the numerous death threats and the "DO NOT ENTER" words scrawled angrily on his door, they did a good job of ignoring them. Fortunately, Logan was too busy panicking to notice that his room was a lot fuller than usual, and started pacing the floor in despair.  
  
"Anything the matter, Logan?" The professor asked, in an all-too-chipper voice for 3am in the morning. He wheeled himself importantly to the center of the room.  
  
Logan felt like ripping his hair out. "It's gone," he said wildly, turning in every direction to check if it was on the floor or hiding behind his desk. "My Bob - he's gone."  
  
"Bob?" Rogue mumbled curiously, biting back a yawn. "Who's he?"  
  
Logan directed his wild eyes to hers. "My blanket! It's always been with me, and now it's gone!" He whirled around, regarding the each of the various x men accusingly. "Who took it?"  
  
"Hey, don't look at me like that," Kurt said, backing away. "I don't even know what it looks like."  
  
"Tell you what," Ororo said soothingly. "Why don't we all go back to sleep, and we can start searching for it in the morning."  
  
"Easy for you to say," Logan snarled. "I can't sleep without it!"  
  
"You could bunk with me," the Professor suggested brightly. We could have a slumber party, with balloons and -"  
  
"We will NOT have a slumber party," Logan snapped. "And nobody's going to sleep until I find Bob!"  
  
************  
  
"This, my dear manservant, is the secret to Wolverine's success!" Magneto crowed triumphantly, waving what looked like a small quilt in Sabertooth's face.  
  
Sabertooth looked unimpressed. "It's a blanket."  
  
"It's not any ordinary blanket," Magneto did a little dance on the carpet. "It's his life-bringing, strength-giving, happiness-inducing, most sacred possession of all time!"  
  
Sabertooth coughed. "Right."  
  
Magneto punched the air in victory. "With this, I shall be able to defeat him!"  
  
"You don't say." Sabertooth regarded Magneto dubiously. "You're going to defeat him with a blanket."  
  
Magneto nodded, ecstatic. "You see, without this blanket, he is powerless to stop me!" He laughed maniacally, further proving to Sabertooth that he had indeed lost his marbles.  
  
"Ooookay." The burly Acolyte returned to his golfing magazine. "Anything else I should know about? Besides Wolverine's blanket and its magical whatchamacallit powers?"  
  
"Life-bringing, strength-giving, happiness-inducing powers," Magneto corrected him. "I'll be leaving it in your care." He gave Sabertooth a very severe look. "Don't let it out of your sight." He reached over to place it on the table, but reconsidered and draped it across Sabertooth's face instead.  
  
"Remember," he said cheerfully, before leaving the room for more strawberry milk. "Don't let it out of your sight!"  
  
It was lucky Magneto had closed the door behind him, as the door became the most unfortunate recipient of several sharp, pointy things which zoomed towards their target with amazing speed and accuracy.  
  
*******  
  
"You're not looking hard enough!" Logan had yelled as one by one, the bedraggled mutants reported back to him empty handed.  
  
Jean stifled a yawn. "But we've searched everywhere!" she protested. "And the professor couldn't sense it anywhere in the mansion, either."  
  
Logan glared at her and flung his hands in the air. "Then that means someone's taken it out of the mansion!"  
  
Three hundred miles away, Magneto sipped his strawberry milk from his favourite mug, whilst singing to Justin Timberlake's "Rock your Body".  
  
Logan's eyes burned with an anger that seemed to consume everything within a 10 meter radius.  
  
"Whoo," Kurt said, patting out a small fire that had started on his shirtsleeve. "Hot."  
  
"That's it!" Logan said dramatically. "We're going on a quest!"  
  
"A quest?" the mutants echoed in unison.  
  
"A mission," Logan bit out, "to recover Bob."  
  
A long, drawn out silence followed.  
  
"Now!" he snapped. "Bob's probably stranded somewhere and needs our help! If we don't find him I'll never be at peace!" He popped his claws, and so did a throbbing vein on his forehead. "Now!" he repeated, windmilling his arms for emphasis, accidentally sending Evan flying as he did so.  
  
With sighs of resignation, the mutants headed out of the room (with Evan clutching at his jaw), whilst Logan stared wistfully at a framed photograph of him and Bob on his desk. Where he was smiling for once, and even Bob looked happy, draped comfortably over his shoulder.  
  
Logan choked back a sob and buried his head in his pillow.  
  
[A/n: aww! Poor logan! I almost feel sorry for him, but a fanfic writer's gotta do what a fanfic writer's gotta do, ya? :D Review, review, review! *does dance* ] 


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